Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Discussions With Non-Readers, Part Two - The Common Sense Gene



Every week I am going to try and debunk excuses that non-readers have not to read, because in my perfect world, everybody reads something. The newspapers, magazines, novels, science books, I don't care what. But reading is a way to keep people well informed and it's a terrific source of entertainment. I will keep my argument structured around the reading of fiction because it's what I know best, but feel free to personalize my arugments when you discuss with non-readers. You can read the first excuse I debunked here.

Excuse #02 - Teacher made me read in high school, it was dreadful.

This is going to be harder than last week. It's a perfectly logical complain. Shit, the things my teachers made me read in high school sometimes made me want to snort whatever was under the kitchen sink, to forget the pain. I remember my ninth grade literature teacher answered to a student complain once that if he didn't develop a love for reading, he would always remain (and I'm quoting him verbatim here) "in his filth". Talk of a harsh thing to tell a fourteen years old. And that came from a man who came to work in snowmobile during the winter and reeked of exhaust fumes. Anyway, the man passed away since then and he quite liked me, so enough smack talk about him. But here's my point. No teacher has actually showed me how to LEARN before I met a certain Mr. Z who thought me how to box when I was twenty.

One of my awesome clients at work has a great name for that problem. The Common Sense Gene. Not everybody has it. The awesome client in question once told me you have to turn off the Common Sense Gene when talking to women, but his latent misoginy is beside the point. Artistic sensibility is not a software you have installed at birth or not. It's not genetic like common sense or reserved to a certain elite. Take a twelve years old kid and serve him a glass of a wine from your best hundred years old, ten thousand dollars worth pinot. I'm ready to bet you a hundred bucks here that he will like grape juice better. Because he doesn't know better. How can he taste worth? Tell me. From most wine adepts I have talked to, you can't possibily know the difference in between a fifty bucks bottle and a 10K bottle unless you're REALLY into it. Guess what? Same thing applies to literature.

How can you appreciate The Great Gatsby if it's the first book you ever read? Things are moving slowly, there is a lot of talking and description. It sure shit isn't like television. If you don't know good from bad in literature, you can't appreciate the finest. You need to read shitty stories first. It's a learning process. If you have never read a novel before, there is a great chance that you find James Patterson amazing. And it's cool, you should be. But if you keep reading him, you're eventually going to grow tired of his gimmicky approach and look for something more substantial. That's where you need to put in some effort and flip the common sense switch. There are plenty of writers that kick Patterson into the dust. The pulp writers would be a good second step. They write some really visceral stuff without being bothered by aesthetics too much. Crime fiction is only one example. But you know, if you like romance, then you start with Harlequin and work your way up, etc. Not everybody likes the same stuff. People who read Jane Austen will find Dumas' swashbuckling adventures silly. And people who read Dumas (I.E. me) find Austen useless.

Of course, you will encounter the random oddball who read Faulkner when he was ten years old and had to be checked-in an hospital for accute synesthesia. Good for him. It's not the case for the majority of us. Reading is slightly demanding. When you get bored from a writer, you have the choice of being lazy and stop reading or you can start hitting the internet and search for other writers in the same field. To me, it's one of the most rewarding and exhilarating parts of being a reader. Every time you finish with a writer, you turn the corner and there are endless possibilities for you. Let's take a crime fiction example again. Let's say you read Dashiell Hammett's Maltese Falcon right? Because you liked the movie. You plow further down into his work and find out Red Harvest. Then you do a little research and find about Raymond Chandler, James Cain, David Goodis, Jim Thompson, Elmore Leonard, George Pelecanos and Richard Price, only to name a few. And that's only for crime fiction. The more you have fields of interest, the more literature will work you.

It's OK if you don't get symbolism, metaphors and subtlety in text. I've read books after books for what? Ten years now? I'm only starting to get those myself. But you can't rely on people to teach you that. Especially not high school teachers. You can only rely on your Common Sense Gene to guide your efforts.

Top 10 Best Beach Books


Top Ten Tuesdays is a blog activity hosted by The Broke And The Bookish

It's summer. And who says summer for readers, says beach books. Beach books are a very particular reading category. They have to comply to certain criterias. First, you have to be able to read them in uncomfortable places, which means it can't be too complicated. You also have to be able to read them while drunk, or at crazy hours of the morning after coming back from a wild limbo-dancing and carrot juice party. They can be very deep and moving, but they have to be straightforward both in language and story. They also need to be a lot of fun. I'm going to concentrate on  books I'd like to read on a beach, but I am telling you, Hogdoggin' by Anthony Neil Smith  is now on sales for ninety-nine cents on Kindle and it's going to slaughter the beach you're sitting on. You can pick it up here. Also, I'll read Infinite Jest this summer, but it's beside the point.

1-Jim Thompson - The Getaway: This book and me will SO have a romantic getaway this summer. Thompson's books have the advantage of being short and pack a mean punch. If you're looking to get through the summer reading pulp, you can probably plow through Thompson's whole catalogue and not feel like you've wasted your time.

2-James Ellroy - The Big Nowhere: It's an arbitrary choice, because it's the only L.A Quartet novel I haven't read yet. But the four novels of the quartet would be great to read on a beach, EXCEPT maybe White Jazz, which is more of a by-the-fireplace-in-December kind of deal. The Los Angeles of James Ellroy is a brutal, blood-soaked place where good people die in motel rooms.

3-Ozzy Osbourne & Chris Ayres - I Am Ozzy: If girly girls dream of being Carrie Bradshaw, wild, chaotic boys dream of being heavy metal gods. And the most decadent, over-the-top heavy metal god was (and to some point, still is) Ozzy Osbourne. The man terrorized hotel personel for decades and has been the source material for many urban legends. Probably the "thrashy" book I'm the most excited about reading this year.

4-Elmore Leonard - Swag: Leonard is a writer is DEFINITIVELY need to check out, but the title of this novel makes it a prime choice for sure. He has inspired a complete generation of crime writers with both his noir and western novels. But you know, "swag" being an awesome term, I'm curious what Elmore Leonard's definition of it is.

5-David Simon - Homicide: A Year On The Killing Street: Simon is the mastermind behind the best series to ever grace a television screen, The Wire. Ever been curious about how it shaped up into the biggest friggin' crime epic? I sure am. It all started with this 1992 true crime novel. It won the Edgar Award that same year. Simon has the Midas touch. Everything he touches seems to turn into gold.

6-George R. R. Martin - A Game Of Thrones Series: It's the hot thingie right now and the new one is coming out this July. Get on the bandwagon. I heard this one is bloody and intense. Josie raced through the four first tomes in five weeks this winter. FIVE WEEKS. You WILL never beat that, but you might get a kick out of Martin on a beach. It will make you look smart when you're watching the HBO series.

7-John Irving - The World According To Garp: If you want to LOOK serious on the beach, this is the novel for you. It IS serious, but John Irving is no acrobat of language. He's an old-school storyteller who's more than happy to give you a tremendous story without trying to choke you out with his themes. Irving writes long, thick books about unique characters.

8-Tucker Max - Assholes Finish First: Ladies, hate all you want and go back reading Twilight and Eat, Pray, Love. This is the male equivalent to chick lit. I can't remember another writer who got me on my all fours, laughing and trying to catch my breath. Is Tucker Max a terrible person? Of course he is. But you have to read his stories for his friend Sling Blade and for those crazy drunken stories.

9-David Morrell - First Blood: You might not be familiar with David Morrell or this book, but if I tell you the main character's name, you'll get it for sure. John Rambo. Yes, Rambo was a novel character before he massacred foreigners on the big screen. I have no idea how deep the novel is, but having Sylvester Stallone as a mental image for the character of Rambo will certainly help making it cooler.

10-Stephen Baxter - Voyage: I know, I know, this is out of print. But I could read about people colonizing the solar system for three months, with sun, sand and corona. Space cowboys are almost as good as real cowboys to me. You have to have balls to go colonize Mars and the moons of Saturn.


Monday, May 30, 2011

Book Review : Jonathan Lethem - The Wall Of The Sky, The Wall Of The Eye (1996)


Country: USA

Genre: Short Stories/Science-Fiction

Pages: 232



That Lethem guy has been around for a little while now. Close to twenty years. He's been making way in the world of American letters in the shadows of his contemporaries without getting the same kind of exposure, but getting amazing press nonetheless. When I researched him a little, it appeared to me that Lethem is kind of a crossover artist. He likes to mix-up genres. That is usually a big no-no for me, but having a curiosty that often challenges my narrow-minded set of values, I knew I had to give him a go. I was looking at a copy of Chronic City while I was at The Strand in New York, when Josie hit me upon the head with that little tome of short stories. The only one he has every produced. I went for The Wall Of The Sky, The Wall Of The Eye because it was incredibly cheap and that short stories are to literature what demos are to video games. A good way to try a writer without committing too much. The proverbial toe dip in the swimming pool. Unless you're reading Raymond Carver.

So yeah, Joanathan Lethem's short stories are an intense case of crossover, but they are very good. The Happy Man tells the story of a man, raised from the dead to help his family, migrating in between earth and hell all the time. Soon enough, he can't help bringing back his hell at home. It's kind of a knock out story to begin the collection with. It punches you right in the teeth. Despite what his main character says, hell is highly metaphorical and I kind of get it. That's a recurring theme in the structure of Lethem's short story. A striking, but very evident alien image that occupies the center of the narration like an elephant in the living room. It's not very subtle, but since his stories are technically science-fiction (so they are structured around that very image) it works out more often than not. In fact, only one story "Access Fantasy" that didn't quite work and it was the most difficult subject of them all.

The Happy Man, Light And The Sufferer, Five Fucks (I know heh?) and The Hardened Criminals are the most solid stories in the collection. They are all a spin on themes of alienation and loneliness. It's refreshing to see a writer ready to crossover to other genres in order to carry his point with originality. The Hardened Criminals is about a prison where life sentenced criminals are molded into bricks and made a part of the prison back wall. It's a terrifying image sure, but it's also a very accurate representation of what prison does to a man's soul and to a certain extent, of insitutionalization. The stories of Lethem might appear blunt, but they are a well studied puppet show. I'm sometimes not too crazy of stories where the narration is controlled tightly by what themes the writer is trying to use, but here it works. Lethem build crazy, haunting stories, about subjects that matter to him.

The problem with short stories when you like them, is that they are usually very different from what the writer usually does, unless that writer is Philip K. Dick. It's only one side of his writing that's represented. Now that I liked The Wall Of The Sky, The Wall Of The Eye (what a terrible title by the way), I'll have to try a novel and see how good can Jonathan Lethem be on a longer distance. Motherless Brooklyn seems to be a natural for me. I still don't like crossover fiction as a style, but Jonathan Lethem's short stories work because he's not animated by the sole desire of juxtaposing genres together. He's trying to say something with them and uses different genres to illustrate his thoughts. The Happy Man and The Hardened Criminals are both stunning reads that make the reading of Lethem's short story collection worthwile. The Wall of The Sky, The Wall Of The Eye is not the strongest short story collection I've ever read, but it's a nice window on Jonathan Lethem's universe.

Movie Review : Reservoir Dogs (1992)


Country:

USA

Recognizable Faces:

Harvey Keitel
Tim Roth
Michael Madsen
Chris Penn
Steve Buscemi
Lawrence Tierney
Edward Bunker
Quentin Tarantino

Directed By:

Quentin Tarantino



Thefirst time I watched Reservoir Dogs, I was maybe nineteen, twenty years old. There was alcohol involved and a lot of people in the room. The memories I kept from my viewing were positive, but blurried. After discussing the movie last Friday with my buddy Eddie Hererra and realizing I had no idea what the fuck I was talking about, I decided to give another shot to Quentin Tarantino's big screen debut. I remembered it was very good, but I didn't remember is was THAT good. Tarantino is a director with who I have a serious case of love/hate relationship. I loved Pulp Fiction, meh'd at Kill Bill, disliked Jackie Brown and thought Inglorious Basterds was very good, despite being self-indulgent. Reservoir Dogs might just be the very best thing he's ever given to cinema, no matter what the box-office will say.

In good Tarentino fashion, Reservoir Dogs defies everything you know about structure. It's like a post-mosterm to a botched heist movie. Six robbers, who know each other as Mr. White (Keitel) , Mr. Pink (Buscemi), Mr. Brown (Tarantino), Mr. Blonde (Madsen), Mr. Orange (Roth) and Mr. Blue (Bunker) are hired by mobster Joe Cabot (Tierney) and his son Eddie (Penn) to do a job in a jewelry store. Only problem is that they got set up by an insider and that the robbery went extremely wrong. They got the package but Mr. Blue and Mr. Brown are dead and Mr. Orange is bleeding out from a serious gut shot. The survivors reach a safe house, an empty warehouse that seem to belong to Joe Cabot, and they try to figure out where they went wrong.

Since most of the movie happens inside the warehouse, some of the scenes are like a glorified stage play and rely on dialog and actors to carry the weight of the story. And it was a safe bet by Tarantino, because everybody owns. Or almost everybody. Harvey Keitel does Mr. White, the old-timer with values, with great energy and selflessness and Steve Buscemi completely owns the screen as Mr. Pink, the ego-centric survivalist. It's one of Buscemi's comfort zones, but he's so good at it that it's hard to give him any grievance to do what he does best. My favorite performence though is from Michael Madsen as the brutal and soulless Vic Vega, who makes his brother Vincent (from Pulp Fiction, remember him?) look like a fun loving teddy bear. Playing violence is easy, but playing soulless, psychopathic violence is another thing. Michael Madsen never shined brighter.

There are lower moments, almost all related to the acting. Chris Penn is playing a cliché mobster with a track suit and too much jewelry. Until he gets serious (about three minutes from the end of the movie), he's just one big walking farce*. Tim Roth is also not giving a weak performence per se, but he's a bit bland. His character has no edge, except when he's bleeding out. Considering he gets a good deal of backstory scenes, he ends up slowing things down when it's his turn on screen. Reservoir Dogs is a movie that relies on acting so much that delivering an average performence just doesn't cut it. Tim Roth is better than what he shows in Mr. Orange (pre-bleeding that is). But it's minor. Keitel, Buscemi, Madsen and Tarantino's dark and humorous writing are all at their best and easily carry this movie through its short lulls. A great gangster movie that represent very well the essence of what crime is. Mindless destruction in the name of distant dreams of fortune.

SCORE: 93%

*For the wrestling afficionados, not how he scores a clean double leg takedown to Michael Madsen when they play fight at the beginning.

Sunday, May 29, 2011

L.A Noire Diaries Part 02


It took me about twelve days to finish L.A Noire. It's very quick, but keep in mind that during the last twelve days, I had a surprising about of time to give to gaming. It was a lot of fun. Not Red Dead Redemption fun, where I could ride a horse, shoot bad guys in the face, place them on train tracks, hang-around with necrophiliacs and feel good about myself, but fun nonetheless. Because that's what it's all about, right? Enjoyment. I have to say that L.A Noire is a stellar example of one of those very story-driven games. It's both its best asset and its worse flaw. Heavily story-driven games are evolving, but they are still not quite there. While the narration was amazing, I couldn't help thinking it would have been better in a novel. Hardboiled stories challenge the video game conventions in a very interesting way, but they might be a little complex and non-linear for now.

What I mean is that video game technology is a little rigid for those. I'll give you an example. I was in the middle of a very long investigation who carried over several cases. The story made an amazing job at foreshadowing it and I cracked the case about half way through. I couldn't solve it though. Not before going through all the predetermined steps that had been set. It was like playing Super Nintendo again and it was a little frustrating. Rockstar Games have for particularity to give the gamers a plethora of different challenges through a single game. Despite packing a great sucker punch near the ending (that I won't ruin for you), it never really derides from its comfort zone. A little driving, a little running, a little fighting, a little shooting and a LOT of investigations. By the end, I was trying to get it over with and rushed into the action scenes. I discovered a zen pleasure at bare knuckle boxing in the mean streets of L.A and shooting bad guys in the face, thanks to the very swift shooting system. The core of the game, the investigation and the interviews, kind of dragged and it was too bad.

BUT. Did I tell you about the story already? BOY that story was great. Straight out of a great pulp novel. Some of the support cast were slightly cliché (Elsa, Roy Earle, Cohen), but the main was terrific. Phelps, Kelso, Sheldon, Fontaine and Biggs were all a lot of fun and gave the story depth and visceral appeal. My kind of stuff. L.A Noire puts the gamers facing a very interesting problematic. It asks them if they are really ready to evolve to more mature narratives and it does so by the very structure of the game (those who played through will know what I mean). Video game protagonists are often a spin what the writers call "Mary Sues". Hollow, idealized avatars of themselves. Rockstar Games has always done a great job at tiptoeing around the problem by creating strong, well-defined characters who have pursuits of their own. L.A Noire is a different kind of beast though. You'll see. Well worth at least a playthrough. Mature gaming may just have started.


 

Saturday, May 28, 2011

The Jim Thompson Story



I found that while dicking around on YouTube this afternoon. Jim Thompson is a writers I still know criminally little about and that most of America seems to ignore. This (very) short documentary piece was on the DVD extras of The Grifters, arguably the biggest movie that was created from one of his novels. Donald Westlake, among others is commenting about his love for Thompson's work. I am very enthusiastic about reading Thompson, because his world seems so vast and I barely even touched it yet. Take a few minutes of your time to watch this, I'm sure you will learn a thing or two about this under-appreciated writer.

Friday, May 27, 2011

Nate Flexer's Ten Rules To Write Noir



Nate Flexer is the author of The Disassembled Man, but he is also busy and important. He found the time to stop by and give us his ten rules to write noir. It's not much of a user guide, but pretty much a way to make your prose bleak and haunting. Once again this week, a very unique spin on the theme. 


by Nate Flexer




1. Protagonist is deeply flawed and self-loathing.

2. He's down on his luck or never had it in the first place.

3. His job is driving him crazy. Back-breaking and/or mindless.

4. He lusts after money that he can't have. He lusts after a woman he
can't have.

5. The woman lusts after the same money. She doesn't give a shit about
him, however.

6. The weather really sucks: frigid, scalding, rainy, snowy, windy.
Sometimes all at once.

7. Boarded-up windows. Lots and lots of boarded up windows.

8. Construction consists entirely of bricks and wood. The bricks are
crumbling and the wood is rotting.

9. The protagonist doesn't get the money.

10. He doesn't get the girl either.

Movie Review : Marwencol (2010)


Country:

USA

Recognizable Faces:


Mark Hogancamp

Directed By:


Jeff Malmberg



The saddest thing about Marwencol is that many people will overlook it because of its title. It might not mean anything to you, but it's the name of a town in Belgium. There is a bar over there called Hogan's Camp, which hosts staged cat fights for your viewing pleasure. The most beautiful women in the country live there. They are tall, blond and Barbie-like. They are stuff of legends and visitors from all-Europe drop by to party with them. But it's not always fun and games in Marwencol. You get an odd case of serious violence, but the people have each other's back over there and it always ends well, despite the pain. Mark Hogancamp's Belgium isn't Europe though. It's in his backyard. And the people of Marwencol exist in his life only, in his mind. It's a doll town. The liveliest, most haunting doll town you've ever came across. It will stay with you for a long time after the viewing.

You have to know that Mark Hogancamp is not mentally challenged in any way. At least, he wasn't born like this. One night where he drank his sorrow away at a local bar, he was jumped and beaten to a near death by five your guys. I'm not going to tell you the WHY, because it's somewhat of a plot twist, but I will tell you this. He got beat up very badly. Repeatedly-stomped-on-the-face bad. I-forgot-everything-about-who-I-was bad. After forty days in the hospital, his insurance run out and he was spat back into the street by the system. He had to figure out for himself a way to heal his body and his mind, so he created Marwencol, a city and a world he's in complete control of. Or he used to be. Experiencing with narrative concepts for the first time in his life, Mark is confronted with characters that take a life of their own and events that just keep happening. Until he gets discovered by one of his neighbors, a professional photographer. 

Marwencol is a beautiful film on trauma. It's also really, really fucking sad at the same time. But when there is beauty in sadness, there is also killer art. That's the thing with Mark, see. Since the savage beating he was a victim of, his whole self was wiped off from his memory. He was re-born out of that beating and therefore, it's at the center of his life and at the center of Marwencol. It's stunning to see how many storylines he's coming up with that involves violence (physical or mental) and pure injustice. Sometimes even carbon copies of the beating he's been a victim of. Marwencol is a way for Mark to cope with the unspeakable violence he's been a victim of. It's a place where he feels secure and in control, but it's not what will make him beat the odds. In fact, it's the odds that are tailing him. 

For eighty-three minutes, my eyes were completely glued to the screen. It's the simple story of a man trying to cope with almost death and with the impossibility of completely recovering his identity. But it's a story that happens in two layers of reality and that ends up pretty well as Mark gets recognition for Marwencol and gets to expose his work in Manhattan. That made me question destiny and faith as the beating he received saved him from a life of misery ANYWAY because he was drowning in his own alcohol problem. And it got him to create something he couldn't have come up with before. It might have been the best thing that happened to him. Very strange, unique, interesting. And inspiring too. Any creative mind will start spinning like a hydraulic turbine from a viewing of Marwencol. Strongly recommended.

SCORE: 91%

Book Review : Bill Bryson - A Short History Of Nearly Everything (2003)


Country: U.S.A

Genre: Non-Fiction/Popular Science

Pages: 624 (Paperback)/6 hours (Audiobook)



A few months ago, I didn't even know who Bill Bryson was. I first heard of him through one of my favorite bloggers, Alley, from What Red Read. She is a convinced Bryson-ite. Whenever somebody is gung-ho for a writers that doesn't target teenagers for primary audience, I want to read him. So I thought I should check him out. What tipped the scale though was a discussion I had with my martial arts coach, who said he was listening to the audiobook of A Short History Of Nearly Everything in his car. I decided then to take on Audible's generous offer to send me a free audiobook if I tried out their web site for two weeks. Well, to say the truth, I tried them for maybe twenty-four hours before cancelling my membership, but it was worth it. Bill Bryson is like that Sunday evening television host who wants to teach you a thing or two about everything while you're still awake.

First let me say that A Short History Of Nearly Everything is not the correct title for this book. It's not accurate enough. It should be something like A Rather Exhaustive Story Of Phenomenological Self-Awareness, but it wouldn't sell. Life as we know it on Earth is the biggest unsolved mystery in the history of humanity. Bryson doesn't have any pretension to resolve it, but in his book he's looking to explain how we came to understand life through the evolution of sciences. And he takes a methodical approach. From the super-giant, the formation of the universe, to the super-miniature. The evolution of bacteriologic life into human existence. In between, there is us. Bill Bryson made me feel pretty small for a few hours. I don't know if it was his goal, but that's what happened.

As I'm not the most well-versed in chemistry, micro-biology and all those earthly preoccupations, the first part of Bryson's book was the most interesting to me. Astronomy, the creation of the universe and the history of Earth's situation in the cosmic landscape. It's about two hours, one third of the book. Since the beginning of science, the realm of human knowledge and awareness of its surrounding has grown smaller and smaller. Things we know, from outside the range of human built telescopes, are based on mathematical calculations, on human assumptions of a set of known values. I'm not the biggest mathematics enthusiast, but this is how I understood it.  As science and knowledge evolves, the unknown evolves too. As a faster pace. To help visualizing this, Thomas Kuhn had an interesting model. Picture science as a circle. Whenever there's something outside the circle, the circle itself grows and there's a lot of parallel knowledge gain. And the understanding of what's outside human reach grows even more.

A Short History Of Nearly Everything is a gold mine of information that will make you look brilliant in various parties and discussions about the meaning of life. It's organized in order of subject size (from universe to bacterias) and by discipline (astronomy, chemistry, micro-biology, paleontology, etc.) but it felt like Bryson was throwing random facts by the handful at some times. It became confusing at times, but Bryson's approach worked very well overall. He keeps you in the loop and keeps his objective in sight at all times. The phenomenological history of human existence. While the subjects cover such a wide landscape of interest and can sometimes confuse you, Bryson keeps things seductive at all times. That's what good popularizers do. They democratize knowledge. What he might lack in structure, he has the edge of keeping his points interesting and not stall over details. A great read, or should I say listening.

Thursday, May 26, 2011

Dancing With Apes - Eight Questions About The Future Of Book Blogging


The Reading Ape, who quickly became one of the most interesting and relevant book bloggers around the interwebs in 2010, is querying book bloggers. I don't consider Dead End Follies a book blog per se, it's covering a much broader range of subject. But let's face it, fiction is my main interest. So let's give the ape a hand and give his questions my best shot. 


What does book blogging do best?

The best thing I've got out of book blogging (outside of my own blogging, of course) is to connect me with reader hype. Reading can be an idiosyncratic business. There is always that super-huge-legendary writer that you've never even heard of. I would have had no clue thatt Jennifer Egan even existed if I didn't read blog posts about A Visit From The Goon Squad. Book blogging connects readers and empowers them with the  strength of a community. The readers give credit to the good stories first and foremost.

If you write a book blog, why do you?

Dead End Follies is not solely dedicated to books, but I do blog about them a lot. It's a very personal thing for me. I like to put my ideas on paper. It helps me understand better what I just dead. Putting distance in between me and the text, rather than incorporating it and switching to another read in one big blur. I have little desire for validation, for book reviews that is. As for the rest of what Dead End Follies is about...it's a different story. I'm glad people enjoy them though.

What do you think the future of book blogging is?

I think it's bound to a very prosperous future. By that I mean that it's going to grow a lot larger than it is now. The publishing industry is taking the high road to the internet, online book stores are asking for reviews but nobody takes them seriously, so readers start blogs and connect with others. The social medias are also helping. Someone posts his Goodreads update on Twitter or Facebook, somebody answers "Hey, I loved this book too". BAM. Discussion is created, a way it would have been unlikely to happen in real life. I feel that all the elements are there to push this platform forward.

What do your favorite book bloggers do?

They introduce me to writers I have never heard before and give me a good reason to read them. For example, Alley, from What Read Red made me discover Bill Bryson and Brenna, from Literary Musings introduced me to David Sedaris. It's because of Paul D. Brazill that I've discovered Anthony Neil Smith, who's now one of my favorite writers. I don't even know if I would've ever looked them up without reading their reviews. It's not always by discussion, but it's a question of making the info circulate. It's like long book blurbs written by people you trust.

If you could tell all book bloggers one thing, what would it be?

It's a community. Mix-up with the others. Take interest in what they do. If you stay on your blog and only care about your number of followers (which you can jack, using disputable methods), you'll have good static numbers, but nobody will read what you do. Because the goal is to be read, right?

If you could change one thing about book blogging, what would it be?

I'd create a central ressource for book bloggers. I'd separate them by field of interest (with of course, the possivbility to cover many genres), so bloggers would meet people that share their taste in fiction quicker. I took a long time to meet people who shared my enthusiasm for noir and crime fiction.

How do you think book blogging fits in the reading landscape?

As well as blogging in general fits in the occidental landscape. There's a desire to say something, to share thoughts. I can only see it being more and more relevant and the cyberspace is getting more relevant. With the mass exodus to cloud apps, our lives will take a well-groomed turn on the internet. I think book blogging is right at the heart of that. Readers are one click away from information, discussion and friendships.

What about your own blogging would you like to do better, differently? 

Hem...I like the way things are right now. BUT, I am very chaotic in the way I think and I produce text. I post all over the place without structure or schedule. Coming up with a posting strategy would be a good start I guess. 

Literary Blog Hop Part 17 - Introducing Dennis Lehane To Unsuspecting Crowds


The Literary Blog Hop is an inter-blog activity, powered by The Blue Bookcase. Last time, I missed it because of professional engagement I took with the site, the blogger fumble and due to some travel also. This week, I'm going to make up for it. The latest prompt is:

Talk about one author that you love and why his or her writing is unique. Please be specific.




I'm like that annoying street salesman in Marrakesh about this, but I love Dennis Lehane. His novels can be graded from "very good" to "I think I just had a stroke". The man just cannot write a bad novel. How is that so? How can a writer rack up so many successes one after the other, while keeping his pants on and his dignity intact?

I think it has to do with the fact that he's such a purist. Think of him as the Bruce Lee of contemporary literature. Nothing matters to him, but the purity of movement. The story. I have never read an author that doesn't bother with anything that success brings. Ego, posterity, target demographic. He leaves all that at the door, to try and build the best story possible. Lehane is not very chatty about his writing habits, but I can picture him writing bare-chested, on an old school typewriter in a Bushido-like cabin in the mountains*.

His stories are the darkest stories I have ever read. Once again, because they are so pure and hit a special place, a universal place that everybody can relate to. It's darker than every horror novel I've ever read. There are no vampires in Mystic River. No werewolf, no blood-thirsty serial killer, there are barely even guns if you compare with your average crime novels. All you have is a unexplainable tragedy and people scrambling to gather themselves and try to understand. There is no voluntary flare. No "Freudian" characters or no insight on the post-colonial condition of the Irishmen in the U.S. Yet it's incredibly deep. As a reader, you're asked to be patient and compassionate in trying to piece back together the lives of three young kids who were separated by greed and lust. Broken innocence is mind-numbingly simple, yet it's a terrific premise for a crime novel. 

Darkness, Take My Hand is another paramount of darkness in Lehane's body of work**. It's another story that's very pure. His understanding of the chaotic nature of crime helped him build this incredibly complex story where the murders come with a heavy history behind them. Sometimes, the smallest detail can make the worse things happen. Like the proverbial butterfly wing flap that causes hurricanes in another hemisphere, in the chaos theory. His weakest novel (that I found) The Given Day was not BAD per se, I still enjoyed some parts. I wrote it off as a love letter to Boston. There are a lot of era details and it chokes the story left and right. But the moments where the characters are left with the possibility to shine on their own are unforgettable, as always. 




* OK, it's somewhat of MY own fantasy of writing, but you get the point. I look up to the guy like he was Joe Montana.


** With that said, I'm aware his title choices for his novels have to be his biggest weakness.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

The Dead End Follies Playlist



I have been posting songs on a regular basis. There are no particular reasons for that. I love music and I think it's great to help one write. It's been going since pretty much the beginning, so let's pool all the songs I've posted together and see what the official Dead End Follies playlist sounds like. I classified a lot of songs under Rock and Heavy Metal, because I felt some sub-folders were unnecessary. These are song most rock/heavy metal fan should appreciate. Then you can also pollute your work environment with awesome rock n' roll vibes. May it help you to write a few lines.

Blues/Crooner Music/RnB

Les Colocs - Hong Kong Blues (video not available anymore)

Electro


Black Metal 


Instrumental


Hard Rock



Heavy Metal


Hip-Hop


Polka And Other Oddities

Ivan Mlàdek - Jozin Z Bazin (Warning, WILL stay in your head)

Pop


Rock 


Punk Rock

Book Review : Chuck Palahniuk - Diary (2003)


Country: USA

Genre: It sure eludes me. Wikipedia says Horror/Satire, so let's go with that.

Pages: 260



My interest in Chuck Palahniuk's novels has been inversely proportional to his productivity. Haunted (despite Guts, which was great) and Rant hammered the last two nails in this short lived passion in 2005 and 2007, but thanks to the blogosphere and Brenna, the brilliant mind behind Literary Musings, I have picked up another Palahniuk novel, like an old and disgruntled musician picks up his guitar again. Diary was the last novel published he published before writing the two that disinterested me from his work. And it starred a woman as the main protagonist. For some reason, Palahniuk shines whenever he's telling his story through a female perspective. Not only Invisible Monsters (his other novel I have read with a female lead) is second favorite Palahniuk novel after Fight Club, but it would also probably be a part of a limited bookshelf I'd bring on a desert island. It's that good. So is Diary living up to the earlier legacy of Palahniuk?

Yes it does.

It's a novel that addresses a dichotomy that inflicts pain, terror and anxiety to every artist I know. How to balance the longing for beauty, for aesthetic achievement and the dull thud of the everyday grind. It doesn't seem that complicated to someone who's not actually trying to do art, but it defines the life of Palahniuk's protagonist, Misty Wilmot. Since she met her husband Peter in art school, her relationship to what she does keeps sliding away from reality. Peter comes from the (almost) secluded community of Waytansea Island, home of legendary painter Maura Kincaid. He affirms that the painting doesn't need rules or a special type of knowledge. Only your inner self and a good dose of pain. For someone so hell bent on selling that idea, Peter is very well informed on the subject. In good Palahniuk character fashion, he is a living encyclopedia about art and especially painters. He wants to help Misty understand the reach of her gift and the use she can make of it, but all he does is to intimidate her.

Here's how Palahniuk makes it interesting. There's another duality that afflicts artistically minded (well...all dreamers really) people. Talking about it vs. making it a reality. Peter talks a big game, but life on Waytansea Island brings him somewhere else. The community is struggling to keep up with its luxuriant lifestyle and it means work. Peter is working at a renovation contractor and Misty is working in a hotel. The daily grind washes over them and numb their artistic inspiration. That is until Peter falls into a coma from a suicide attempt and Misty decides to start writing a diary during the process. That will reintroduce her to her own pain and to her inspiration at the same time. I know I seem awfully chatty about the plot right now, but I'm barely grazing the surface and exploring the mechanic Palahniuk uses to get his point across. I'm sure everybody who even tried to write a word of fiction came across the difficulty of transferring your idea from your mind to the page. And the feeling that you're mass producing crap. 

Diary is the seventh Palahniuk novel I read and it's by far the most unique. It's the least violent and (it seemed to me) the most intimate. The creative struggle is something that hasn't been the subject of too many novels and Palahniuk's take is highly colorful, yet accurate. It sparks a tiny little flame of interest in him again. Diary is a great entry door to his fiction. It might not be as tormented as Fight Club (although it comes close) or as over-the-top as Invisible Monsters, but it's a good introduction. It's preparing one's mind for the joyous excesses that characterize Palahniuk's fiction. It might even help you to understand a little bit better what you're doing, whether you're doing art on an amateur or a professional level. And maybe it will help you to produce. Who knows? Give Diary a chance, whether you're an estranged Palahniuk fan like me, or you're just struggling with your art. It's a great story about somebody who wants to understand the nature of what she's doing.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Difficult Words - Adult


Far from me the idea to rip off George Carlin, but you know, something I think about words. About the weird use we make of language. I'll start peppering my thoughts about that under "Difficult Words" title, here and there. There will be no precise schedule. 


I'm not going to lecture you about the meaninglessness of the passage into adulthood. I did that already and if you're looking for a condensed version, I will refer you to the great, great article on the subject, written by Cracked columnist Dan O'Brien. I'm going to take the problematic backwards and try to understand why we associate such a mythology to that word. "Adult". 

According to Merriam-Webster dictionary, is means: fully developed and mature.

That might be the very root of the problem. It's a definition that sends back to another foggy concept : "mature" and who doesn't specify the very nature of what it means, so we're left with one choice only. "Adult" means being physically, psychologically and emotionally mature. The first is only logical, but I have a problem with the latter two. Take for example, radio stations that define themselves as "Adult Rock". I'm not the biggest connoisseur in American radio, but we have one of those stations here called 105,7 Rythme FM. All it airs is music like Air Supply, Celine Dion, Simon And Garfunkel (OK, they are folk rock, first and foremost) and local guitar scratchers. Their heaviest stuff is Nickelback.

Let's milk it, shall we?

Rock music is an offspring from teenage rebellion. Its creators, Chuck Berry, Bo Diddley, Little Richards, Elvis Presley and cie. Berry sung: "Hail, hail, rock and roll, deliver me from the days of old". It's exactly what rock was created to do. It wasn't very complex music, which angered a lot of people back then because music had always been complex. It was an intellectual activity. It was simple, repetitive and most important, energetic. Rock brought music to the masses. It was simple, so it had the power to be understood and appreciated by a lot of people and bind them together.

Now "adult rock"? Fully developed and mature rock should sound like Air Supply and Nickelback? It's kind of an oxymoron. What was first created to break expectation would, in it's most mature form please the most people by not being aggressive and defiant at all. And it's just one example. How many times have you heard at sixteen: "BE AN ADULT" or "BE MATURE". I sure heard it a lot. What the hell does that mean? You're a teenager, your body is mutating, you're discovering a whole new world of possibility, you have hormones running and the energy to light up Los Angeles for a week-end. What are you supposed to do? Sit on your ass, drink lemonade and listen to Air Supply records?

I don't see the point of being fully matured and developed. Physically, it comes soon enough. By the time you're thirty, your body peaks. But emotionally and psychologically? Even assuming that you're fully developed and mature, would mean you don't have anything left to learn and understand. That you would have achieved a stage of completion and that you should push back every form of knowledge and...wait for death. Let's change that word. Let's call it "legal". Because in most countries, it's only practical use is a legal, arbitrary definition that changes from country to country. Let's ban it before we become little old people.


Top 10 Books I Have Lied About


Wow, this is a hard one. So hard, that the Broke And Bookish girls (who proposed it in the first place) didn't answer it yet. I lied a lot about books in college. Everybody lied about them back then, because classes were one, giant pissing contest. Who had read the most? Who understood Joyce? Who could thrash Faulkner and back his thoughts with the most spectacular wits? Who the fuck even read Phenomenology Of The Mind and Critique Of Pure Reason and applied their principles in a literature paper? One giant pissing contest I tell you. The challenge is not to find ten books I lied about, but the BEST ten lies I have made about those books.


1-James Joyces - Ulysses: I totally got it. The complete one thousand pages of stream-of-consciousness and intimate insight on human soul. Understood every second of it. Stream-of-consciousness should totally be the only way you should be allowed to write a novel....yeah...right. 

2-Salman Rushdie - The Satanic Verses: OF COURSE I READ THIS. Only, it was a long time ago...*whistles* And it's completely captivating how Rushdie got a fatwa put on his head for that. Like I know anything about religious extremists. *whistles some more* *walks away with hands in pockets*

3-Assia Djebar - Far From Medina: I was only kidding when I said that each time somebody reads this book, there's a natural catastrophe that happens somewhere. It did not caused hurricane Katrina. I repeat, it did not caused hurricane Katrina. 

4-Miguel Cervantes - Don Quixote: This was THE book everybody was supposed to have read in school. Teachers thought it came included in the options, like we were cars or something. I think it's the very first time I admit I have never even opened Don Quixote. Maybe one day I will FEEL like it.

5-Marquis De Sade - 120 Days Of Sodom: "I...must...continue...owe...it...to...myself". Not. I understand the point of Sade, but telling myself that I needed to read through this book was the biggest literary lie I ever told myself. In fact, I should sell my copy of this book. 

6-Umberto Eco - Foucault's Pendulum: I'm not too sure why, but I once said it was brilliant. But I didn't read it. I just assumed that since Eco wrote so much academic paper about aesthetics and all, it must have been brilliant. Since then I have discovered that the subject of Umberto Eco's novels is how brilliant Umberto Eco is.

7-Dan Brown - Angels And Demons: "Yeah mom, it was pretty good. Thank you. There was a lot of...action and all. When the camerlingus jumps from the helicopter with the antimatter basket, great literature. It's a great gift, mom". I still feel bad about this one.

8-Haruki Murakami - Norwegian Wood: It doesn't REALLY cure diseases. And it wasn't really written by God himself and Murakami isn't immortal. It's not the book that cured the black plague in the dark ages. The only thing it will cure is your soul.

9-Stephenie Meyer - The Twilight Saga: Technically, every time I bag on this book, I am lying by omission because I never even opened it. I have watched bits of the first two movie and both times, Ithought I was watching Vampires Suck. So I'm slightly talking out of my ass when I refer to Twilight. But only slightly.

10-J.R.R Tolkien - The Lord Of The Rings: "Of course I have read the three books before I read the movie. A long time before. I have read them in my teenage years, they have greatly influenced the way I think". To my credit. I have read the three books after seeing the first film.

Monday, May 23, 2011

The Curtains Were Blue (Or Academic Literature In A Nutshell)


Thanks to Darlyn, from Your Move, Dickens

Discussions With Non-Readers, Part One - Get Out Of The Car Already


For the next three or four weeks, I'll try to address non-readers every Monday. For the comedians reading, I am very aware that non-readers don't read much, so they probably don't read my blog. What I'm looking to do here, is to  knock every excuse non-readers have for not reading. I will leave aside evident excuses like blindness, because even if it's arguable, it's not much fun. I'm addressing non-readers that have no excuse, but keep making some anyway. Then hopefully, next time you run into one of those, you can initiate discussion with them and prove that they are wrong for not reading. Because in a perfect world, people should read. All the time. 

Excuse #01 - I'm not much of a reader, man.

I'm sorry but you're wrong. Even if I don't know you, I know that you're fundamentally wrong. Everybody reads, all the time. It's probably what you do best, along with walking, eating and sleeping. You read everyday. You read labels, instruction manuals, signs on the road, text messages, e-mails, web sites, television schedules, work sheets, cooking recipes. You read all the time. If you're a mildly socialized and curious human being, there's a great chance that you're an expert at language. The one you've grown into. Since you've been talking for what? Twenty? Thirty? Fifty years? Language is something you have a terrific understanding of. If you're "not much of a reader", it's because you haven't found the subject that interests you enough to sit down and read about it. 

And why should you do the effort to research such a thing? Because if you end up finding a book that will interest you, it's going to grab you by the throat like nothing else. I'm so sure of this because since you're so good at reading, a book is the easiest, most concentrated form of entertainment for you. You don't have to fend off a television screen, spectators or a week long break in between episodes to suspend your disbelief. You can consume a book like a good meal. Nothing forces you to leave its imaginary (or very real, historical) world until you're out of pages to read. It's the ultimate object of instant gratification. It's faster than television, faster than McDonald's or a night out, boozing. As soon as you get a hold of the book, you can read it through without having to bother with commercial, a waiting line or personal hygiene (sic).

So why aren't you much of a reader again? Oh yeah, reading is boring. You get bored easy, don't you. You get all these years, all this time to yourself and you don't have the faintest idea what to do with it. Well, you should give reading a try. It's a boredom solution that goes way beyond sitting down and reading stories. Or facts. To give you a metaphor, picture a closet shelf, crammed full of nice clothes that aren't yours, piled up in a chaotic mass. You want that sock hanging out. So you pull on it and all the clothes fall on your head. You can now run away with a new wardrobe. OK, that was weird, but that's how reading feels to me. You get a lot more from it than you would have though. From reading Haruki Murakami, I got acquainted with the novels of Fitzgerald, Conrad, Carver and even discovered The Beatles. And from subsequently reading Fitzgerald, I discovered Hemingway, Miller and the lost generation. You'll always find something to read or to check out. Reading will make you curious and too busy to be bored. So get out of the car already, man. Because you're already there. You're a good reader by means of minimal education. Now, go look around and check things out. 

There are some myths associated with reading though, I agree. They might turn you away from reading because it's a hobby where you'll never find durable satisfaction. It will last zero to a thousand pages, depending on what you like to read about. You will discover gold mines after gold mines, but shovel some coal too. Like every passion, it will procure pain and pleasure. We will examine the first myth next week, the sometimes damaging reading canon.

Book Review : Anthony Neil Smith - Hogdoggin' (2009)


Country: USA

Genre: Noir

Pages: 313 (paperback)/Soon to be available for Kindle



I have read Hogdoggin' over twenty-four hours and I was in no hurry. When I like what I'm reading, I can take a week to read it. Ten days if the novel is particularly long. But when I LOVE what I read, it's hard to pry me off the pages. Hogdoggin' is the best novel I've read this year so far. Better than My Dark Places and American Tabloid. Even better than The Executioner's Song. Both are a different kind of good, Mailer's novel is more exhaustive and detailed, but it suffers from pacing issues that Hogdoggin' doesn't even consider bothering with. It's a study on the chaotic nature of violence and yet, it's a non-stop pedal-to-the-metal tale of good intention gone bad, really bad. It's not completely necessary to read Yellow Medicine to appreciate the savage beauty of Hogdoggin', but I recommend it. Then you can appreciate the great truth of canonical noir novels. It can only get worse.

One of the most meaningful changes that Anthony Neil Smith made for Hogdoggin' is that he switched to third person storytelling. It could've been incidental, but it's a major component of the novel's success. It's darker, has a broader scope and gives a better portrait of the nature of crime. The novel starts a few months after the event of Yellow Medicine. Billy Lafitte has disappeared and joined a biker's gang, where he became the enforcer of a demented, seven foot tall biker chief named Steel God. He grew his hair long, grew a beard and took fifty pounds of muscle, thanks to his newfound use of anabolic steroids. Billy Lafitte, the policeman is long dead. Despite his best efforts to build a new life for himself, Lafitte is cornered by his past and forced to go back to painful memories before he can go on. And the past has a name. Franklin Rome. The ex-homeland security, now FBI agent is growing obsessed with Lafitte and will use every dirty trick he knows to smoke him out of his hole. At any cost.

There are two school of thoughts regarding crime in general. There are those who find crime irresistibly cool and perceive high profile criminals as liberated minds and self-righteous heroes. Then, there are those who regard crime as pathological and "evil". They are two kind of people, sharing a similar output on criminality. To them, life is a team sport and the laws are the rule book. Hogdoggin' walks a fine line in-between those two polarized perception of this man-made concept and does is spectacularly. Violence breeds violence, that most people will agree, but any kind of violence will bring a subject (here, Lafitte) to make pressed, dangerous choices, that will bring other criminals in the equation. Scavengers and opportunists. Then, these new variables will make the initiator of all that madness (Rome) take different decisions and rush to finish the task. It's a wheel that keeps going faster and faster. When you surround yourself with bad people, bad things happen and you should be ready to live that lifestyle all the way. While Hogdoggin' is over-the-top and sometimes very funny, there's a Damocles sword hanging over the character's head and makes their actions tainted with a stunning despair.

The supporting cast of Hogdoggin' gives it a supplementary coat of varnish that makes it shine even brighter. Desiree, Franklin Rome's estranged wife starts as a weird antagonist to the antagonist, but evolves throughout the novel to become one of the most interesting characters. I cannot speak for the writer here, but she seems to be the kind of character that took a life of her own while being written. She's discovers a good deal of her inner strength, in a  twisted, parallel subplot that makes way too much sense. Steel God is quite the unique creation and and starts the novel with one of the most memorable first chapters I've read in a while. And then there's McKeown, Colleen, Fawn, Perry and even Ginny Lafitte, who plays a bigger role than in the previous novel. It's still barely a cameo, but she almost steals the show from Desiree. When you hurt a lot of people to conform to the lifestyle you chose, it's the life of everybody that knew them you toss upside down. Hogdoggin' does a great job at illustrating that, with brevity and haunting images.

The challenge of writing a crime/mystery/noir novel is to show accurately the narcissistic nature of mankind. It's the self-preservation/self-improvement/self everything, that makes someone try to step over somebody else's head. It also spreads like a virus and soon enough, everybody feels alienated, angry and are prone to destruction on a wide scale. Hogdoggin' perfectly embodies that. It's a perfect object, frozen in time. I mean, it's not the proverbial novel that will give you a Stendhal syndrome episode with its insightful and poetic prose, but it's perfect for what it is. Like The Wire was perfect for television or like Mystic River was perfect when it came out. I've never read something that had such a human approach to crime and yet, manage to keep an unbelievable pace. Yellow Medicine was great, but Hogdoggin'  has the lasting power of the greatest crime novels. It's not going to attract every reader, but if you can appreciate any sort of crime novel, Hogdoggin' blow your expectations away, like you have been sitting on a TNT charge. And smile, it's coming for Kindle in June for ninety-nine cents. 

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Godsmack - Awake


I'm not going to lie. My initial plan was to put a video of a deaf thirteen year old singing I'm Alive by Céline Dion, with the choreography and all. I'm not going to put you through that. The video is available here. Part of me wants to believe that it's the kind of entertainment that only religious fundamentalists can patronize. The kid made the news a few years ago because he sung a Christmas carol to the pope and now his parents haul him around in community centers, trying to make a buck over him singing covers of adult rock songs. Interesting fate. No, what I have for you is a Godsmack song, from back in the days when they liked to make good music. The video is also not too shabby. It's a little more life-affirming to rock than to watch a deaf teenager make a fool of himself. Yep, we're not dead, the only two things that happened this week-end are that Chuck Wendig's wife gave birth to a baby boy (Congrats!) and Bernard Hopkins won the light heavyweight boxing championship at 46 years old, becoming the oldest man in history to do so. It's unclear as which one of the two is the new prophet. Live long, live strong and don't believe the hype. Enjoy the song.

Godsmack - Awake

Wait another minute
Can't you see what this pain has fucking done to me
I'm alive and still kicking
What you see I can't see and maybe you'll think before you speak

I'm alive,
For you I'm awake
Because of you I'm alive
Told you I'm awake,
Swallowing you

Take another second
Turn your back on me
and make believe that you're always happy
It's safe to say you're never alive
A big part of you has died and by the way,
I hope you're satisfied

I'm alive,
For you I'm awake
Because of you I'm alive
Told you I'm awake,
Swallowing you

I'm alive,
For you I'm awake
Because of you I'm alive
Told you I'm awake,

(go)

tearing it back, unveiling me
taking a step back so i can breathe
hear the silence about to break
fear resistance when I'm awake

tearing it back, unveiling me
taking a step back so i can breathe
hear the silence about to break
fear resistance when I'm awake


OH YEAH

AH YEAH

I'm alive,
For you I'm awake
Because of you I'm alive
Told you I'm awake,
Swallowing you

I'm alive,
For you I'm awake
Because of you I'm alive
Told you I'm awake,
Swallowing you

Saturday, May 21, 2011

So Long, And Thank You For Everything Harold Camping


It's the rapture today. Harold Camping doesn't talk. He's holed up in his mansion in California. He's probably praying. That's what he should do, because the journalists are going to nail his ass if it's not the apocalypse by tomorrow. Adept Robert Fitzgerald has declared it's going to happen at 6 PM, Eastern Time precisely. Fitzgerald has also engulfed 140 000$ of his savings into this whole rapture project. So far, it's a beautiful day and I went for a hike with Scarlett.

I wonder if tomorrow, Harold Camping will wake up and wonder if God might have not been talking to him all that time. That maybe that heavenly sound WAS the buzz of his refrigerator after all. And you, what have you been doing for rapture?

Friday, May 20, 2011

John Hornor Jacobs' Ten Rules To Write Noir


You might not know John Hornor Jacobs yet, but you will. He's taking the world by storm. Hell, he already took Twitter hostage (@johnhornor). He's going to release his first novel Southern Gods in August (click on the link to pre-order) and This Dark Earth in the summer of 2012. If you're interested in knowing more about him, you can go to The Bastardized Version or hop to The Night Bazaar, where he also writes sometimes. While he's not your conventional noir writer (John considers himself to be a horror writer with noir influences), he accepted today to share the ten rules to his unique stories.


1. No rule is inviolate.

2. Only use "said" in dialogue attribution.

3. Your main character needs to be inexorable.

4. If you want to engender emotion in the reader, be as emotionless as possible describing action.

5. Don't write women like they're aliens. (Women want revenge, to get laid, to punch that loudmouth in the craw just as much as men do. We're not that different, men and women, in our basic motivations. However, women usually pee sitting down and they have boobies. Mmmm. Boobies.)

6. The alcohol bone is connected to the tobacco bone. But not everybody smokes and drinks in real life. Luckily, we're not writing about real life.

7. Watch the adverbs. Don't get flowery.

8. Real men write in third person. First person in noir is tired. Mix it up a little. Also, consider your tense. Present tense is currently hot, but past tense is classic.

9. In real life, fights are messy and usually end up with two guys rolling around on the floor. Luckily, we're not writing about real life.

10. No one cares about the make of the gun, its range or caliber or performance in wet conditions, except other gun freaks and Dan Brown. Most readers just need to know that there's one there and the person holding it is willing to use it.